


Survival

by Bloody_Destination



Series: Dark Ace Series of Connected Drabbles [12]
Category: Storm Hawks (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Betrayal, Depression, F/F, Gen, Original Storm Hawks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-10 12:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Destination/pseuds/Bloody_Destination
Summary: The original Storm Hawks in hiding. Not a happy ending.





	Survival

Lightning has never seen this look on Ace before. Nothing has ever scared the Sky Knight like this before, this detached gaze on his son’s face. Ace, bright, smart and so lively, has never looked so haunted before. Empty. He wonders when it happened, where he went wrong. He knows he has only himself to blame.

It feels like an eternity when he locks his gaze onto Ace’s own. Ace had always said his eyes were the color of blood, but that isn’t true. In the spring, they are the color of roses, especially when the sun hits them just right. In the summer, they lighten even more to a ruby color, almost pink and he enjoys pointing this out because it makes the child fluster. In the fall, they darken to a brick color, but still so bright, like newly painted brick. In the winter, his eyes take on the color of a sunrise, switching between shades at lightning pace and it’s a sight to see.

He remembers Ace once saying his mother’s eyes used to change with her mood. Lightning has since thought Ace’s eyes change with the season. It must be a family trait, whether Ace will admit it or not.

Now, Lightning thinks, as he stares down into those pools, so deep and void of a soul, he can admit in this instant, they are the color of blood, freshly spilt and cooling quickly. He could get lost in those eyes with how endless they are, drown in a river of blood with only a look.

For only a moment, Lightning does get lost in them. He sees the energy blade in his son’s hands, the arch it takes as it inches it’s way towards his body and he can do nothing, because this is Ace and what can he do. When the blade cuts into him, he tries to hold his ground, but the cut is deep, and it hurts, and the wind and red make him dizzy.

But he forces himself. He’s so confused, but Ace still has that cold look on his face and he wants to take a step forward, all he manages is a step back, already on the edge of the skimmer’s wing.

“A-Ace?” He wants to ask so much more, say so much more, and he tries to take another step forward, but his legs give out and he’s falling.

It’s so bright, he thinks, those eyes that pierce him so deeply. He wonders when this happened, where he went wrong. He didn’t see any signs, no resentment, no hate. All he’s ever seen is a child in need, then a child he loved, probably even more than his own birth child. Ace was such a good child. He was so smart, but always searching for attention and Lightning had readily given it to him.

_So where did he go wrong?_

He wants to scream and shout and beg Ace.

_Why did you do it!? We were family! Why why why!_

It’s too late now as he spares one last look at the child’s face before the Wasteland’s fog blocks out his vision. He doesn’t mind dying. He’s always thought he would go out on the battle field.

_But not like this…_

He feels broken in a way that has nothing to with an energy blade to the chest. Mimi will be heartbroken, alone to raise Aerrow. She’d also known he would one day die on a battle field. He feels so guilty for putting her through this, but this was his life. An orphan child, right out of the Sky Knight Academy, putting together a ragtag crew of misfits and then taking the world by storm.

He hated that school. The Sky Knight Academy pampered the rich and looked down on orphans like himself. It’s why he’d sent Ace to a regular school rather than the academy. They would have eaten him alive, for being both an orphan and a Cyclonian, whether he was only partially both or otherwise.

_“Lightning!”_

He thinks he imagines it at first, as his vision starts to blur and he’s pretty sure the ground is coming in fast. But no. In the next moment, he sees Wing, or rather he sees at least three different Wings, but he chalks that up to blood lose and the tears that are blurring his vision.

He blinks for only a second and when they open again, Lightning no longer feels like he’s falling, but he also doesn’t feel like he’s hit the ground after falling from hundreds of feet up. He’s definitely on the ground, though and Wing is looking down at him, his eyes frantic and the little first aid kit he always carries around is in his hands.

“Hold on, Lightning. Hold on.”

But he doesn’t want to. Not after his whole life has just been torn out from under him.

“We have to find the others.”

Ace is smart. He’s had time to plan. Who knows if the others are still alive. But Wing made it out, made it alive and somehow, he is too, so maybe the others are alright. Maybe.

There’s something loud happening in the distance, and then Lightning sees the Condor, taking a nose dive in the distance. It’s hard to see, so far away, past the fog and pillars of rock in the way, but the condor is crashing, and Lightning can’t take it anymore. His home, his family, his life, all ripped away from him in one moment.

“Damn him.” Wing growls, but his voice breaks all the same and tears fall, and hands shake as they finish applying bandages, “We have to move, Lightning. We have to see. Joshi and Emala. Nimbus was right next to me and gods, I left him behind. What about Mick? His skimmer is too slow, too damn slow.”

Somehow, Lightning forces himself up and onto Wing’s skimmer. He’s sure he loses consciousness at one point because the next thing he knows, he’s leaning against Wing’s back with his arm slung over the other man’s shoulder with a tight hold on his wrist.

When they land, Lightning nearly collapses to the ground, if not for Wing slowly lowering him until he’s leaning against the skimmer.

“I’ll be back.” Lightning wants to tell him not to go, not to leave him alone, but that would be selfish.

He doesn’t have to worry for long. He closes his eyes, possibly losing consciousness again, and when he opens them, his team is there. All of them, alive and well. Banged up and bleeding, but alive. Only one is missing, a short kid with black hair and bright eyes.

“We can’t stay here for long.” Emala is saying, holding onto a limp and bleeding arm, “We probably have a few hours, a day at the longest, but as soon as the fighting has stopped and the Cyclonians are sure of their victory, they’ll be down here looking for possible survivors and we’ve gotta be gone by then and looking dead.”

“Damn it. We really lost, didn’t we?” Wing takes it hard, “Why did he do it?”

Emala just shakes her head, “We don’t have time to think about that now. We have to worry about survival. Going back to our home Terras would easily spell death for all of our loved ones if the Cyclonians found out we were still alive.”

“So…what then?” Nymbus asks, teeth grinding audibly, “We hide from those bastards! I don’t plan on it!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Nym.” Joshi berates him, “We’ve got a downed Condor, too jacked up to even think of fixing, only two working skimmers and six of us. I might be able to repair maybe one more skimmer in the time we have before someone comes looking, but the Condor has seen her last battle.”

“Then let them come and I’ll see my last battle too.” Mick says, and Lightning can’t let this stand. He won’t let another one of his family members leave him again.

“No, Mick.” Lightning says, then coughing pass the pain in his throat, and suddenly five faces are swimming in his vision and he has to push them away as he wobbles to his feet, “No one is dying today, or ever if I have a say in it. We’ll get a skimmer fixed up and hide out until we’re sure the Cyclonians have stopped looking.”

Mick challenges, he always challenges, but Lightning already knows he’ll give in, “And what then? The more time that passes, the more control they’ll seize.”

Emala snorts, “You saw how many Talons there were. A thousand at the least. If they had those kinds of forces hidden behind those mountains, they could have more, and we’d never see it coming, just like the first time.”

“But will biding our time really work?” Nymbus asks, “While it may give us a chance to regroup and heal, they’re already at near peak condition. Hells, maybe they were never even all that close to losing as we thought. It was all just a ploy to get us to let our guard down.”

“And we paid the price.” Joshi finishes.

Lightning shakes his head, “We don’t have a choice, and I don’t plan on dying today. Joshi. We’re going to need that third skimmer.”

“Right, boss.”

“The rest of you, see what you can salvage from the Condor.” He makes a move to follow after them, but he only makes it a step before his feet fall out from beneath him and five pares of hands catch him and lower him back down against the skimmer.

“You need to stay here, boss.” Emala tells him, pleads with him, “Don’t make us watch you fall a second time.”

He can’t do more than nod and watch them go off on their tasks.

It takes Joshi exactly a day and no sleep to finish the repairs to Nymbus’ skimmer. A number of packs are tied to the three skimmers. Lightning can feel the wariness in his teams every move. They’re tired and hungry and they’ve all just suffered a terrible betrayal. He can’t think of a single thing to say to any of them. Can’t think of a single thing to say to himself. If it wasn’t for his team, he’s sure he would have already crawled in a hole to die.

They fly low through the Wastelands. It’s slow going and the fog is messing with them, messing with their sense of direction but they don’t have any other choice. They can’t risk being discovered, can’t risk their families’ safety.

They ride for almost an entire day before they have to go up. They have the food that was left on the condor, but it was only enough for a few days, enough to finish the battle and then restock on the way home. They have no water and they are all dehydrated.

It’s nighttime when they reach open air, everyone letting out a silent breath of relief to finally escape the suffocating fog.

There is very little difference. There is no burning Terras, no screaming. Just silence save for the large Cyclonian battle cruiser patrolling the sky far above them. They wait for it to pass before Nymbus dawns a cloak and disappears passed the forested area they parked on. They don’t want to risk more than one person going.

He’s not gone for long and returns with a jug of water in hand that he quickly straps to the back of his skimmer.

He takes a pause before returning to the seat of his skimmer, “The Cyclonians have pretty much taken over. They wander around Atmos like it’s there. I asked around and everyone is saying the same thing. The Sky Knight Alliance has fallen apart. Some have even joined the Cyclonians, others let them do whatever they want.”

There is a heavy silence between them before Emala says quietly, “It’s barely been two days. How could it have already gotten this bad?”

“It was systematic, planned.” Lightning says. He sounds tired and he feels like all of the fight has left his body, “It was a betrayal planned down to the very last detail. All of our weaknesses, our strengths, exploited until there was no hope of our win. Ace…he knew how to make the Alliance crumble completely.”

“That’s another thing.” Nymbus said, anger clouding his usually stoic tone, “They’re calling him the Dark Ace now, handpicked and trained by Master Cyclonis himself.”

“I said we weren’t talking about this now.” Emala yelled, tears forming at the corner of her eyes and irises turning glassy, “Let’s just…find a place to hide, then we can talk about it. Not right now…please. Not right now.”

Lightning agrees with her and for the same reason. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that it was his son who betrayed them. That boy, on the very same day that he called him dad for the first and last time.

In that moment, Lightning hates him, hates the boy who wormed his way into his life. He hates the tricks and scorn. He hates all of Cyclonia, down to every last Cyclonian and half-Cyclonian with their red eyes and black hair and all the blood on their hands. He hates them all.

But above all else, Lightning hates himself.

They find a Terra on the far edge of Atmosian space. It’s sparse with life, but enough for the recovering Storm Hawks to get by. They set up on a Terra covered in caves, places for them to hide if need be on a short notice. It’s close to several smaller Terras, populated with small towns. No one recognizes them here, not even the Cyclonian scouts, patrolling this area of Atmos.

It takes months for them to heal, over a year for Lightning, the cut on his chest was near crippling. It scars deep, leaving an angry red welt across his chest, from the bottom of on the left rib cage to the collar bone on his right. During this time, Lightning spends his days in the dark caverns the Sky Knights have set up home in. On most days, he retreats into himself

In the end, it takes until Lightning is healed before they finally stop putting off what they plan to do from here on out.

“We have no allies, no one knows we are alive, and Cyclonia now has control on most of Atmos.” Emala starts them out as they huddle in the cave.

“Not to mention we don’t really have a ship to take on any large-scale enemies and barely three good working skimmers.” Joshi adds.

Nymbus speaks next, “We also can’t ask for help, considering we don’t know who hasn’t already put their lot in with the Cyclonians and if any of them figures out we’re alive, they may target our families to get to us.”

“Then we attack from the shadows.” Lightning says, “We figure out their patterns, their routes. Cut down as many as we can without being discovered. If people see there is someone fighting for their freedom, it may help us find allies, inspire others to fight. And even if it does neither, we are still hurting the Cyclonians.”

Mick nods as he adds, “If we can hit some of the smaller patrols, we can jack some of their skimmers, steal supplies. We need to be smart about it though, so we aren’t leading them directly to our front door.”

Wing arches an eyebrow pointedly at the entrance to the cave and the bulkier man grunts at him.

“You know what I meant. We hit them at a distance. Not ones too close to this territory, but not making it seem like we are actively avoiding this place either.

That is exactly what they do. They hit trade routes and supply chains. They target Cyclonian bases on Terras to exploit the people and their resources. Their targets are picked at random and they never hit the same spot twice. They work to win the support of the people as they fight tooth and nail for their freedom and safety. But it’s hard when the people are starving, and the only food come from supporting the Cyclonian Empire, especially so far out where no official Sky Knights are there to fight for the people.

The Storm Hawks give as much as they can, hijacking cargo meant to supply Cyclonian troop and taxes collected illegally from the citizens of the Terras. They give it all back to the people. The Sky Knights try to do more, but they are only five people against thousands. It’s obvious their actions matter very little in the grand scheme of Atmos and Cyclonia. Not even Cyclonia cares for the out of the way Terras on the edge of Atmos territory, nor it seems, do they care about the Talons stations there, either.

They do this for years, without end, without breaks. The people on their little corner of Atmos have grown use to their hidden saviors and the Talons have come to expect the near weekly, sometimes daily, attacks. But it does little in the way of even provoke the Cyclonian’s air force and the Atmosian people are too scared to resist along with the fallen Storm Hawks.

It is hard to admit, where once they proudly led the charge against Cyclonia, nearly winning, now they struggle to even make a different amongst several dozen small Terra. Hope wanes amongst them, but they still fight just to spite their enemies.

Not so surprisingly, it is Joshi who leaves the first. After only two years from the Storm Hawks’ fall, she packs a small bag and leaves for a Terra where she’ll be just another face in the crowd. Just a regular old mechanic, she says. A job that will pay and one that will keep her anonymous.

“We’ve lost.” Is the final thing she tells them before she leaves their little make shift home.

A year passes after that before the next one goes. Nymbus has taken to dying his hair brown, replacing the vibrant yellow, almost white, of his hair. He also looks ten years older than what he should. He looks normal, where once he was the most charming man in any given room. He’s lost the shine in his eyes. He’s given up, just like Joshi.

“I’m going home.” He says one day and not nearly out of the blue as the others would like to think, “It’s been years and I want to see my parents again. Maybe even see if my girl waited for me.”

With only the four of them left, raids become slower and it’s almost as if the people they’ve taken to protecting expected this outcome because nothing changes. Not really. The same number of Talons and their carriers come through and go out. The people don’t wait up for a visitor in the night to bring them supplies or resources taken from their Terras by the Talons.

Surprisingly, it is Lightning who leaves next, “Not for long. I just…want to see them again. Let them know I’m still alive.”

On some level, they’ve all given up already. They have no resources, no allies or friends. They may as well be homeless considering the caves they live in. They’ve got skimmers that need daily repair. They used to be heroes, but not anymore.

So, they come with him. They can’t let their little family fall apart any more than it already has. They know if they don’t go with him then he won’t come back, no matter what he says. Lightning is their leader, but he’s also what is keeping them together and they’ve seen the look in his eyes and know they are also what is keeping him together.

Terra Atmosia is not what it used to be. Houses and stores are boarded up, streets are a patchwork of half-assed repairs. It almost appears abandoned, even after dark, it isn’t so late that there should be no one on the streets. But it makes their journey easier when there is no one to see them come and go.

Lightning isn’t really surprised, though, when the house comes into view and it is like the hundreds of other buildings they’ve passed. It’s dark, like all the rest but boarded up and falling apart. No one is there, no one waiting for him to come home. He hopes they are only gone, only hidden away from Cyclonian eyes. He prays to whatever gods are out there that his wife and son are alive and curses himself for not coming earlier.

A small part in the back of his mind hopes that Ace, his beloved Ace, wasn’t heartless enough to target the both of them, a woman who was like-no-who was his mother and a brother who loved him more than anything. But he knows, above all else, that Ace is a heartless creature, able to cut down his mentor, a man whom he called father and he could do the same to them. Lightning remembers those cold eyes as he took what he thought was the killing blow.

He can’t bare to look at that empty house and when they leave, Lightning leaves with a promise resonating throughout his mind. He promises to kill that traitorous snake, the one who took his team, his ship, his freedom and above all else, the one who took his family.

Despite this promise, Lightning retreats into himself and into a bottle. When the remaining, former, Storm Hawks aren’t hunting down Cyclonians and Talons abusing their power at the expense of Terras and their people, Lightning drowns himself in alcohol. He doesn’t stop searching for a family he knows he’ll never find, whether they are in hiding or already dead, but he never stops looking.

Lightning knows he isn’t the same anymore, hasn’t been the same since the day Ace took everything away from him, but he can see it now. He sees it in the way he spends his nights in bars, sees it in the way he refuses to show mercy to the Talons he fights half drunk and almost always hungover.

Lightning hears about the boy he raised, sometimes. The Dark Ace is a name that has become feared, a name synonymous as Master Cyclonis’ right hand, Cyclonia’s most feared fighter and Commander of its Talons. Sky Knights don’t even attempt to fight him, instead running in the opposite direction. Even the threat of his name has caused rebellions to die out without even a single fight.

The Former Sky Knight thinks to himself _, is this the boy I raised?_ He hopes, deep in a dark place that has quickly consumed nearly all of the space inside Lightning’s heart and mind, that Ace was always like this, had set out from the beginning to betray him and not been tempted only after joining their family. Because if it’s the latter, then he knows it was his failure that caused Ace to abandon them, abandon him. It is easier to imagine Ace as having always been a monster, a snake hidden in the grass, then to imagine that sweet little boy being tempted by fame and reward. It’s easier to put the blame on a teen than himself.

Nine years from their fall and Lightning has taken to the bottle more than fighting Cyclonians, where he will go months without seeing any of his former teammates. They come see him every so often, but mostly, they leave him be to whatever bar he’s hold up in and the petty fights he’ll start with other patrons.

It’s one day, on that ninth year, that they come to him buzzing with near excitement and Lightning hasn’t yet walked into his first bar of the night, yet still hungover from the one before. They pull him aside and then continue until they have him on a little cruiser they bought years ago. It’s barely big enough for the four of them, he, Emala, Wing and Mick, and definitely not big enough for the two extra passengers Lightning hasn’t seen in a long time, Joshi and Nymbus are also on the ship, crowded into one corner with that same sort of electric energy going through the others when they get picked up.

“They say the Storm Hawks have returned.” Emala says, a broad smile taking over her face, “They’ve actually been challenging Cyclonia and winning. For months now.”

Mick laughs and it sounds hysterically happy, “You should hear some of the stories! Some of the rumors are even saying their Captain beat the Dark Ace.”

That puts a shine in all of their eyes, even as Lightning tries to hold back a wince at the name.

“Lightning, you won’t believe who the Captain is.” Emala says, eyes flashing with unshed tears, “His name is Aerrow, Lightning. He’s got bright red hair, green eyes and nearly as tall as you. It’s him, Lightning. It’s your son.”

Nymbus nods, “I’ve seen him up close. He saved my Terra from a Cyclonian mine. He’s incredible, Lightning. He looks just like Mimi.”

“He’s been inspiring other Sky Knights to fight back and it’s working. The Cyclonians are falling back.” Joshi speaks up, “The Sky Knights on my Terra are actually doing something for a change. I haven’t seen a single Talon in weeks.”

Lightning can’t believe what he’s hearing. He’s been searching for nearly a decade and when he finally gives up, there he is. His little Aerrow and leading a squadron of Storm Hawks himself. He remembers so long ago, Mimi arguing and fighting with him over never letting Aerrow even close to the Condor. She had been so adamant that Aerrow grow up like a normal child, not in the shadow of his Sky Knight father.

He’s crying, he knows, and the others are so happy, and he wants to see him. Wants to meet the son he’s missed for nearly ten years. He’s still hungover, but for the first time in five years, he’s not itching for a drink.

They leave right away. The new Storm Hawks don’t have a base of operations, not like how the original team always rendezvoused on Terra Atmosia. This team is near completely independent, unlike most teams who pick a sector of Atmosian air space and claim it as their own to protect. This new team goes wherever they are needed, wherever help is wanted, and that is all of Atmos.

It’s hard tracking such an unpredictable team. Takes them months of searching, following a trail that is nearly impossible to predict, days too late after battles have already been won and the Sky Knights since moved on.

They haven’t yet caught up, when the sky if flashing with an image of a woman, both translucent and cloaked in shadows. She demands absolute surrender or utter annihilation. This is the Master Cyclonis who threatens the entire Atmos.

The original Sky Knight can do nothing but watch as former allies and a dozen new faces defend their home for the second time in a decade. Just like the first, it is an easy victory, one meant to deceive, but this time, it appears these Sky Knight won’t be fooled. They also aren’t faced with a betrayal from the inside.

Lightning, along with the rest of his former team, want to help, but they’re little ship isn’t equipped with weapons and they’d only get in the way. They can’t even keep up when the Sky Knight squadrons speed towards Cyclonia. They try their hardest to keep up and are rewarded with the sight of that same woman from before, her visage large as she announces Cyclonia’s defeat and full retreat of her forces back to the Terra.

In a blaze of glorious relief, the dozen Battle Destroyers are lit up and crashing deep into the foggy recesses of the Wastelands. It is so close to the location that the Condor went down, and it is a fitting end that Cyclonia also dies here.

And just as the rumors stated, there’s the Condor, looking like a piece of patchworks but beautiful none the less. Lightning can’t take his eyes off of her. Not when a group of five fly back into her hanger and certainly not when he sees his old ship descend into the fog, right after the Destroyers.

It isn’t too long later when the ship surfaces again. There is a moment where all is quiet, and then the Condor is heading in one direction and the other Sky Knight Squadrons are headed to another. This time, the ship is moving slow, enough so that their little ship could easily catch up.

“I can’t do it.” Lightning says as the dread finally sets in, when all but he agrees to follow the Condor, “I’m no father he should have to see. Not after so long.”

“What are you talking about, Lightning?” Mick shouts, “That boy needs you, no matter what you say. He’s still a child!”

“He’s also a Sky Knight, a Storm Hawk and the savior of Atmos. He doesn’t need me.” His boy has done the impossible and of course Lightning is proud, but he’s a relic from a past long since gone.

They aren’t Storm Hawks anymore, and they all know it too. Most all of them have a life outside of this adventure. They’ve seen what they’ve come to see, the end of the Cyclonian Empire. For Lightning, he saw his son’s victory and he’s so proud.

The truth is, they abandoned the Atmos those ten years ago, right along with all of the other Sky Knights. They chose seclusion over heroism. Self-loathing over self-sacrifice.

It’s time to go home for them, time to return to a run down bar and the bottom of a bottle.

They understand his meaning without him having to say it and after so many years, most of which they’ve been apart for, they still can read him like a book. He’ll love them for it for the rest of his life, but that doesn’t stop him from hating the truth of what he’s become.

As they start to lose passengers, Lightning is reminiscent of when he first started to lose his family. Joshi gets off first. It’s a mining colony of rare metals. Joshi is a manager of the plant now, not just some mechanic in the refining business. No, she’s an honest to god manager making six figures and why couldn’t they have used her ship which was twice as big, Mick asks. Then goes Nymbus, his girlfriend-turned-wife waiting for him, as she had been all those years ago.

Finally, the trio drops Lightning off at a lonely looking Terra known for its cheap liquor, “We’ll visit soon. We promise.”

Then he’s alone and the three are off to gods know where.

He settles down on a bar stool in a bar he frequents often. The bar keep already has his drink waiting since the moment he stepped in the door.

“Say, Strike.” The man says the name Lightning always gives when asked, “Did you hear the great news? Cyclonia’s been defeated! By the Storm Hawks! Knowing you, you’ve probably been passed out these last few months on whatever carrier oil you’ve downed this time. But it’s true.”

The other patrons around them are also talking, no longer in hushed whispers but in a full-blown celebration. Drinks are half price and so Lightning drinks twice as much for the same amount that he usually spends. He passes out with the name of his son on his lips and when he wakes up the next morning, he can’t remember which sons’ name it was and he tries not to think about it.


End file.
